Reflections
by Glo Worm
Summary: “You know they're coming months in advance, so you can plan to look your best and also exactly what you're going to say when you run into that two-timing rat Chris Davies, who ran off with Paula "I'll pash anybody" Parker”
1. School Reunion

Title: Reflections (1/?)

Author: Anna-Maria

Rating: PG

Summary: "You know they're coming months in advance, so you can plan to look your best and also exactly what you're going to say when you run into that two-timing rat Chris Davies, who ran off with Paula "I'll pash anybody" Parker"

A/N: Catherine's POV

Grace, one of my oldest friends from my teenage years, rang me up last week in what can only be described as a state of utter desperation.  
  
"Catherine, you have to help me," she announced dramatically. "I have to lose 16 kilos in one week."

"Goodness," I pondered, "what could have brought on this sudden need for extreme dieting in my previously happy-to-be-curvy friend?" And then it hit me.

"Oh, my God, you're getting married," I screamed down the phone.

"Don't be ridiculous," she snapped, "it's something far more serious than that."

"Goodness," I pondered again, "what could be even more serious than a wedding to have brought on this sudden need for extreme dieting in my previously happy-to-be-curvy friend?" And then it really hit me.

"Oh, my God, you're going to your high school reunion."

"Yes," she sobbed, "and I've got one week to go from Size 16 to 10, get a new job, a new car, a new wardrobe, a university degree, find a husband and have two children."

What is it about high school reunions that bring out our deepest insecurities?

Why is it that one minute we can be perfectly happy with our lot in life but the moment we hear our high school reunion is looming, suddenly we're straight back in the 1970's, back to that tall, clumsy girl with bad hair, coke-bottle glasses and questionable fashion sense who may or may not have wet her pants in Mr Thompson's biology class.

Not that anything like that ever happened to me, you understand, no I was just giving an example of what _other_ girls might go through.

Anyway, I believe I know exactly why high school reunions have the power to turn us all into insecure teenagers overnight.

It's because no matter how far we have come, no matter what we have achieved to turn us into the person that we are, lurking not too far below the surface is the person that we once were – and not too many people I know are actually all that keen on who they were in high school.

I completely understand Grace's nerves, because I, too, have a high school reunion of sorts coming up.

My old school, is celebrating its Golden Jubilee on May 1 this year and I've been asked to be a special guest speaker, my old school having apparently forgotten about the unfortunate Bunsen Burner Incident of 1978.

While it is not specifically a reunion for my year, apparently just about everybody who ever went will be there.

Now I loved my old school, so I'm happy to go along to show my support, and I've also realised that one of the good things about high school reunions is that at least you have time to prepare for them.

Yes, at least you know they're coming months in advance, so you can plan to look your best and also exactly what you're going to say when you run into that two-timing rat Chris Davies, who ran off with Paula "I'll pash anybody" Parker, even though you and Chris were clearly still going together at the time and had in fact given each other love bites behind the vigoro shed just that very morning . . .

Sorry, where was I?

Oh yes – high school reunions, where planning is everything. Even though I only had a week to help Grace get ready for hers, I believed I was up to the task and so took her shopping.

"Can I help you?" the sales assistant said.

"Yes," I said. "Do you have a dress that says, 'Hello everybody, aren't I fabulous, successful, clever, accomplished and slim and I would have brought my husband Lorenzo along only he's visiting our two adorable children Parisia and Byzantine at their boarding school in Switzerland?' "

"A high school reunion dress, you mean?" she replied.

"You got it, sister."


	2. Barbie Breakup

Title: Reflections (2/?)

Author: Anna-Maria

Rating: PG-13

Summary: "Ken is gayer than Carson from _Queer Eye For a Straight Guy"_

A/N: This is Catherine's POV

Well, I don't know about you but I was absolutely devastated to hear about the break-up of Barbie and Ken, or, as I have come to know and love them, Ben.

Devastated, but not, it must be said, too surprised.

For goodness sake, how long was Barbie meant to wait before Ken got down on bended knee?

Granted, it is of course a physical impossibility for Ken to actually bend his knees, but after 43 years together, surely he could have figured out some way to propose?

I knew my Husband for over 15 years before he proposed. It was very sweet, just after I gave that good for nothing rat Chris Davies a piece of my mind at my high school reunion.

Instead, Ken dithered and so he lost her ­ not that I think he'd be too devastated.

No, while Barbie's publicist would have us believe Barbie and Ken broke up because they simply drifted apart, I think it's about time someone came out ­ a bit like Ken should really ­ and said it: Ken is gayer than Carson from Queer Eye For a Straight Guy.

Think about it.

His hair is perfect, he spends ridiculous amounts of money on personal grooming and his best friends are called GI Joe and Action Jackson.

Yes, I think the real story behind the break-up was that Barbie finally figured out the reason why Ken never wanted to marry her ­ or even have sex with her ­ was not just because he, unfortunately, has no genitals.

No, Ken is clearly gay and Barbie was clearly in denial about it and who could blame her?

Where on earth is she going to find another bloke who looks fabulous on her arm at all those glamorous parties she goes to and never, ever embarrasses her in public by saying stupid things, again largely because he can't actually speak a word.

Well, apparently she has found a replacement for Ken in a rather unseemly short length of time, which sadly proves the theory that some women, despite having it all, including their own Malibu Beach House not to mention a Fun in Acapulco pool set, make the same mistakes in love again and again and again.

Yes, Barbie may be gorgeous, a rocket scientist, an astronaut and an ambassador for the United Nations, but when it comes to men the girl is, quite frankly, as thick as a brick.

Having finally worked out that Ken would rather hang out with his friends GI and Action in a leather bar, Barbie has found a new boyfriend, an Australian boogie boarder called, wait for it, Blaine.

That's right, Blaine.

Now I don't know about you, but I have visited in Australia many times in my life and spent a lot of time on a lot of beaches and I have never, ever met a boogie boarder called Blaine.

Chook? Yes. Rooster? Certainly. Davo? Frequently. But Blaine?

I don't think so, because Blaine is not a boogie boarder's name.

Blaine is the name of your manicurist. Blaine is one of those men who sprays you in the perfume department and says "Have you tried our new scent Urban Violation, it's fabulous." Blaine is, in short, gay, gay, gay and Barbie, it seems, is about to make the same mistake again with Blaine who actually looks just like Ken, only with boardshorts.

What the hell is wrong with this girl?

Here she is, an award- winning scientist, a rock star, a NASCAR driver and yet, when it comes to love, she just never learns. What's the bet she's dragging out that Dream Barbie Wedding Dress again, as we speak?

I'll tell you what's wrong with Barbie ­ she's a woman and women, for reasons known only to themselves, often fall for the same wrong type again and again ­ don't we girls?

I went through a rather lengthy period when I would only go out with saxophonists who treated me badly, so I'd have to say I feel a certain amount of empathy for Barbie, who I hope will one day meet the man of her dreams. She deserves to after putting up with Ken for so long.

Apart from the fact that he was never going to commit to her, I always found him a bit plastic.

But have you tried to explain this to a ten year old? Gil didn't help much. He seemed to take the phrase "Barbie dumped Ken" to literally. I came home from work to find him standing over the garbage disposal unit, knife in hand, Lindsey next to him sobbing hysterically beside him. "What happened?" I asked a little apprehensively, dropping my bag onto the kitchen table. Lindsey ran up to me and threw her arms around my waist. "Oh Mommy its terrible," she said dramatically, "I told Daddy that Barbie dumped Ken, and he was so upset he dropped him down the Garbage disposal". I glanced at my husband, before turning to my daughter. "I'm sure Daddy will buy you a new Ken to make it up to you".

Lindsey was devastated to hear that the plumber had thrown out the remaining pieces of Ken, found at the bottom of the garbage disposal, into the bin. Her Ken had gone to the big toy box in the sky. Gil grudgingly bought her a new Ken, which keeps turning up in strange places such as the food processor, tarantula cage and in the dog's bowl. I've got the feeling that he doesn't like him much.

THE END!!!


	3. China Town

Title: Reflections (3/?)  
Author: Anna-Maria  
Rating: PG  
Summary: I staggered into the kitchen for Emily's 3am feed, retrieved the bottle out of the refrigerator to warm it up and was just about to plunge it into the bowl of hot water when suddenly the thought, "What's wrong with this picture?", crossed my mind.   
A/N: Thanks to Gomey for Beta-ing

You know, before I had my second beautiful daughter, Emily, I really didn't believe parents when they told me about sleep deprivation.  
  
I remember thinking, "Oh for goodness sake, what's the problem, you just have a little kip when they have a little kip".  That's how it was with Lindsey

In fact, I remember actually saying this to a new mother who responded by laughing hysterically, followed by a rather alarming bout of uncontrolled sobbing.

Still, she cheered up no end when she remembered my own baby was due soon.

Well, now she is here and I would like to take this opportunity to apologise to that woman and any other parent whose sleep deprivation I may have dismissed with an airy, "Well I think you just need to let your baby know that sleep time is sleep time".

Please, it's a wonder they didn't gun me down in the street.

Anyway, now that I know exactly what sleep deprivation is, I would like to share some of my finer moments as Emily's mother with you, starting with the night when I attempted to feed my six-week-old daughter a bone.

Yes, that's right, a bone.

In my defence I would like to explain that we are looking after our neighbour's little puppy, Milo.

So I staggered into the kitchen for Emily's 3am feed, retrieved the bottle out of the refrigerator to warm it up and was just about to plunge it into the bowl of hot water when suddenly the thought, "What's wrong with this picture?", crossed my mind.

Looking down I realised that what I was about to give my darling daughter was not, in fact, a bottle but a rather large dog's bone. Which was a ridiculous thing to do on so many counts, not least because babies don't start solids until at least three months.

But this is what lack of sleep will do to you, as well as going to the petrol station, going to the counter and wondering why the man is staring at you expectantly.

This also happened to me last week, and I finally said to him, "I'd like to pay for my petrol please", to which he replied, "And I'd like to let you, love, just as soon as you actually put some in your car".

The other thing about becoming a mother is that you become a world-class worrier, anxious all the time that your baby is all right.

Last week I had my first night out without Emily, who stayed at home with her father - or at least stayed at home with her father until he took her into Chinatown for dinner.

When I rang the mobile to find out how they were, Gil and I had the following conversation.

Catherine: "Hello darling, what's all that noise, is that the television?"

Gil: "No, we're in Chinatown, having dinner."

Catherine: "Chinatown, you're in Chinatown?"

Gil: "Yes."

Catherine: "You're in Chinatown, having dinner?"

Gil: "Yes."

Catherine: "You're having dinner in Chinatown?"

Gil: "Look Catherine, as much as I'd love to stay here and listen to you saying the same sentence over and over again, I really need to get going."

Catherine: "Well, where's Emily, is she in the restaurant with you?"

Gil: "No Catherine, I left her at the bar - of course she's here with me, she's right beside me."

Catherine: "Well, is she cold there? What's she wearing? Is she warm, have you got her rugged up?"

Gil: "No Catherine, she's in her swimsuit, what do you think? Of course I've got her rugged up. Look, Emily and I have to go, another woman is coming up to talk to us."

Yes it seems that Gil and Emily, our friend Pete and his new baby Kate had all gone into Chinatown for dinner together and apparently there's nothing like two little babies as accessories to turn blokes into chick magnets.

Women were dropping by that table all night to "ooh" and "aah" over Emily and Kate, and now Pete wants Gil to go into Chinatown every Saturday night.

I don't think so.


End file.
